


Mother's Day

by HunterusHeroicus93



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, Grace smiles a LOT, Mother's Day, Sober!Klaus, The Hargreeves actually care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterusHeroicus93/pseuds/HunterusHeroicus93
Summary: The Hargreeves mansion gets an unexpected visitor, and one of the siblings has to make a decision.





	1. The Visitor

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend for this to be an actual Mother's Day fic, since time sucks and I sorta forgot it was coming up, but I got halfway through writing before I realised the timing lined up rather nicely, so here it is.
> 
> Enjoy, and please leave a review! <3

It began with a knock at the door, which was answered by Luther, who stared suspiciously at the woman standing before him.   
  
“Is this the Hargreeves’ residence?” she asked. Her words were heavily accented, and Luther almost missed them. He cleared his throat.  
  
“Uh, yes.”   
  
“My name is Greta. I’ve come to see my son.”   
  
***   
  
Luther sat in awkward silence opposite the stranger. He had a million questions, but it was not his place to ask any of them. He would have to wait.   
  
A few minutes later, Klaus stumbled into the room.  
  
“Dammit, Luther! I was - “ he stopped at the sight of the woman smiling at him. “What’s going on?”  
  
“Klaus, this is Greta,” Luther explained slowly. “She’s your mother.”  
  
The silence that hung in the air was almost suffocating, and Klaus did not care for it. He had to say something.  
  
“What are you talking about? Mom is \- ” he gestured towards the kitchen. He closed his eyes, silently reprimanding himself. “Of course. My  _birth_ mother.”   
  
“Hello, Klaus,” Greta said, standing to greet him properly. She held out a hand, but Klaus didn’t move. “I imagine you have a lot of questions. It’s okay, dear. You can ask anything you like.”  
  
“I -" he started, then shook his head. He tried again. “Why are you here? Why now? It’s been thirty years, and suddenly here you are. You gave me up. For what? Money? What did he promise you in return for your child? Did you even consider keeping me?”  
  
Klaus was breathing hard by the time he’d finished, and Luther was stunned. He’d never seen his brother like this before – he always seemed so laid-back. Greta sighed.  
  
“Please, come and sit down, and I’ll explain everything.”  
  
Luther stood up a little too quickly. “I’m  gonna, uh...” he gestured vaguely to the door and left the room. Klaus watched him go, then turned back to Greta. Hesitantly, he walked towards the sofa and perched on the edge of the seat. He spotted Ben standing in the doorway, but said nothing. He waited for Greta to speak.  
  
“I was seventeen when you were born. It was a shock, of course, but we were so excited. My fiancé and I - he would have been your father – had been talking about starting a family for months before you came along. We were not wealthy, but we would have made it work. My parents weren’t happy, but there was nothing they could do. Alfred and I were in love, they could see that. But then, he got sick. Pneumonia, they said. We couldn’t afford to take care of you both. My parents told me I had to choose. I wanted you both, of course. I wanted my family whole. But I also wanted you both to live, and if I’d kept you, Alfred would have died. And that was when Mr Hargreeves came to see us. ‘How much do you want for it?’ he said, as if you were a piece of meat at the butcher’s. I didn’t want to answer, so my father did. ‘Enough to pay off our medical bills’, he said. Mr  Hargreeves  agreed, wrote us a cheque, and took you away.” Greta paused, and took a deep breath. “Alfred died two months later. I’d lost you both. We used the rest of the money to give him a funeral, and I became deeply depressed afterwards. I left home, got a job in a small shop, and tried to forget. But I couldn’t. I wanted to find you, but I didn’t know how. The money I made barely paid the rent. Then, I saw you on the news. I knew it was you immediately. I recognised Mr Hargreeves, of course, but there was something about you that told me, ’That’s my boy’. It took me years to save up enough to come here, but I worked hard, got a promotion, and booked a flight.” She spread her hands, and smiled, waiting patiently for Klaus to say something.  
  
Klaus took all of this in silently, and when she’d finished, he released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He shook slightly, and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He understood. Of course he’d known that he was adopted, and that he must have parents out there somewhere, but he never really expected them to show. He’d assumed they just didn’t want him. Hell, most of the time  _he _didn’t want him, so why should his parents be any different? But it hadn't occurred to him that there might be another reason. His father – or rather, the man who would have been his father – was dying. It was him or the baby. He would have given anything to have more time with Dave, even if it was only two months. He understood his mother’s pain, losing her whole family like that.  
  
“Klaus?”  
  
He blinked, and realised he hadn’t spoken a word. He looked at Greta.  
  
“I... I need some time,” he managed. “I’m okay... but, I need to think. Could you... come back tomorrow?”  
  
Greta smiled. “Of course. Take all the time you need.” She held out her hand, and this time Klaus took it. They shook, and Klaus walked her to the door.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”  
  
Klaus nodded. “Tomorrow.”  
  
He headed back inside and slumped onto the sofa. A second later, three of his siblings rushed him excitedly.  
  
“Klaus! Oh my god,” Allison exclaimed. “This is fantastic!”  
  
“Your mom, huh?” Diego said thoughtfully. “She was hot.”  
  
Klaus rolled his eyes at him, but said nothing.  
  
“Are you okay, Klaus?” Luther asked, resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  
  
Klaus pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes, trying to push away the beginnings of a headache.  
  
“I’m fine, I just need to think things over.”  
  
“Okay, well, come and find us if you need to talk,” Allison offered.   
  
Diego ruffled Klaus’s hair, and the three of them left. He was alone.


	2. The Decision

Klaus went to bed sober that night, so naturally, the dead followed him. Twice he awoke, sweating and shaking. The second time, he tumbled out of bed trying to fight off the covers, and hit his head on his bedside drawers.   
  
“Dammit!” he growled, touching his forehead. Blood seeped out from the shallow cut. “Great.”   
  
He scrambled to his feet and felt his way towards the door.   
  
“Jesus, Klaus,” Ben said from the doorway. “This is really messing you up, isn’t it?”   
  
“Shut up, Ben.” Klaus pulled the door open. “Pogo?” he called. “Mom?”   
  
There was no answer. He stumbled into the dark hallway, feeling for a light switch, and almost ran into Grace.   
  
“Mom, thank God,” he moaned.   
  
“Klaus, what are you doing out of bed?” Grace asked. Her eyes fell on the cut on his head. “Honey, you’re bleeding. Let’s go get you fixed up.” She led him downstairs towards the kitchen and fetched some water and paper towels.   
  
Klaus studied her quietly as she cleaned his injury. She caught him staring, and smiled. “Is everything okay, dear?”   
  
Klaus nodded. “I love you, Mom,” he whispered.   
  
“I love you, too,” Grace replied. She finished patching him up, taping a piece of gauze down, and stood up. “Are you hungry? I’ll make pancakes.”   
  
Klaus shook his head.   
  
“How about some tea, then? I have chamomile.”   
  
“Sounds good, Mom.” Klaus suddenly felt exhausted, as if the day had caught up with him all at once. He lay his head down on the table, resting on his arms, and watched his mother pottering around the kitchen.   
  
His mother.   
  
Grace was his mother. Not Greta. She had given birth to him by accident, then sold him off to a stranger to save her boyfriend. She was only seventeen, so he couldn’t blame her for that, not really. But she never thought about the consequences of giving her son away. He’d been locked up, forced to face the ghosts that screamed at him every waking hour, and then eventually in his sleep, too. He hated his life, and it was all because of her.   
  
“Klaus?” Grace’s gentle voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Klaus, honey, your tea is getting cold.”   
  
“Sorry, Mom, I was... thinking.”  
  
“What were you thinking about?”  
  
Sitting up, Klaus gazed at her, wondering if he should tell her the truth. Her expression was kind, patient, and full of love, and he decided. He couldn’t lie to her.   
  
“My... mother came here this morning.”  
  
Grace frowned. “Your mother?”   
  
“My birth mother,” Klaus explained, watching Grace’s expression change from confusion to sadness. He clasped her hand tightly. “We just talked. She explained why she... why she gave me up. It was me or her fiancé, and she chose him.” Klaus’s voice cracked on the last word, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “She’s coming back tomorrow. I’ve made my decision – I don’t want anything to do with her. You’re my mother, not some stranger who abandoned me as a baby. You’ve taken care of me almost my entire life, even when I didn’t deserve it. I choose you, Mom.” He gripped her hand with both of his and held it, hoping she understood.   
  
Grace wrapped her fingers around Klaus’s, squeezing gently. “You’re a wonderful boy, Klaus. I will always be your mother, whatever you decide. I love all of my children, including you.”   
  
Klaus smiled for what felt like the first time in years, and looked down at the table. A tear splashed onto the surface in front of him. “Thanks, Mom.”   
  
***   
  
Eight hours later, Klaus was saying goodbye to Greta for the last time, feeling vaguely guilty, like he’d let yet another person down. Greta understood, though, and reassured him that it was okay, that he had every right to not want to see her again. She wished him luck, and invited him to look her up if he ever changed his mind. He agreed, watched her disappear around the wall at the end of the yard, and went back inside. As he shut the door, a pair of arms folded around him, pulling him tightly. He buried his head in Grace’s shoulder, breathing deeply.   
  
“It’s okay, Klaus,” she soothed. “Everything is going to be okay.”   
  
Klaus looked up, wiping away tears.   
  
Grace cupped his face  in  her hands, and smiled at him. “Come on. I’ll bake cookies.”   
  
“I'll be there in a minute, Mom.” Klaus watched her go, and made a silent promise to never let her down again.


End file.
